


Let Me Cure These Blackened Hearts

by Darth_Rainbow_Queen_Of_Coconuts



Series: Missteps [2]
Category: MCU, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 02:02:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21468247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darth_Rainbow_Queen_Of_Coconuts/pseuds/Darth_Rainbow_Queen_Of_Coconuts
Summary: There's a difference between a clean slate and a new one. Bruce doesn't like either. But he adapts. Just like Bucky did.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Clint Barton, Bruce Banner & Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes & Bruce Banner, Bucky Barnes/Bruce Banner, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Tony Stark & Bruce Banner
Series: Missteps [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1547485
Kudos: 6





	Let Me Cure These Blackened Hearts

_Bruce returned._

_He always does._

_It took him eight months this time_.

The scientist entered the shared quarters, grinned and dumped his duffel bag on the floor as Tony made his way toward him to pull him into a tight hug. "I'm so glad to see you buddy." The shorted male mumbled, squeezing his best friend just a little tighter. "Even if you reek." He added, before letting go. Tony took a step back to take a good look at his friend and cupped his face. "God, you're so bony." He grumbled, choosing not to comment on the hideous beard that covered half of Bruce's face. "Let's get some food into you buddy." With that, he simply let the other towards the communal kitchen.

Most offered a smile, glad the scientist had returned healthy and safe. Natasha even gave his shoulder a light squeeze, her version of a warm 'welcome home'. And Bruce's smile widened for a second, as something alighted in his gaze. He seemed to sag a little less too. Clint, in a Clint fashion chewed on his slice of pizza before asking : "Is the dead possum on your face gonna stick around or? Because with the bird nest on your head it's a bit much. And I'm trying to eat here." Bruce chuckled. Subdued but genuine. And the archer grinned before biting into his pizza again.

Bucky's eyes trailed to Steve. The blond acted as if a weight had been relieved from his shoulders, his eyes screaming 'you're home, you're safe'. It was obvious, and relieved, and desperate. Steve cared, so much, about each and every of them. Bucky's heart did that weird twitchy thing and he remembered that Steve was his now. Completely. So he ran his fingers in the blond's hair and smiled when Steve glanced his way. He stole a chaste peck, pleased at how easy it was to make Steve blush. Bucky didn't look at Bruce once the whole time.Not that the scientist had the time to notice, between the constant ribbing and questioning. As if he'd went on a pleasant retreat and not to the dirtiest, messiest places to relieve some misery.

Bruce retired early. Duffel bag forgotten in the shared quarters. He returned to his, curious, apprehensive as the elevator opened to what had once been his space. He blinked upon noticing that everything was intact. Untouched. Unchanged. And clean. It smelled sanitized. Lifeless. Bruce moved toward the large windows and opened them. Even pollution was better than death. He moved to the adjacent bathroom, shed his clothing and paused in front of the mirror. This was it. This was still him. The man he'd been running away from to the end of the world but couldn't find an escape from. He swallowed thickly, running fingers along the visibly collarbones and the apparent ribcage. He chuckled, feeling empty despite his full stomach. Open the sink to drink some water, hoping to keep his dinner in. Then closed it and went under the shower.

Bruce kept his eyes shut as he covered his body with soap, letting the dirt rinse away, once, twice, his hair and beard too, before he dared opening his eyes again. It felt difficult not to hear himself existing in such a silent environment. So he let the water pour over his body for a while, until he felt actually bad for wasting it. He got out, a towel wrapped around his body and remembered where he'd left his belongings. He glanced toward the dressed in the sanitized room and frowned uncomfortably. "Friday is there anyone currently in the communal space?" He questioned.

"No sir." Came the simple reply. Bruce's lips curled up, pleased by the constant of the A.I and left his chambers to retrieve his bag. It was a quick trip, really. And he was beyond caring about a little nudity. Not when he'd long ago lost all dignity. When the doors of the elevator opened, Bruce heaved a soft sigh, taking in the scenery. It was familiar and foreign all the same. Like looking at a flashback of a memory you know distorted but wish was just the same. As if willing it just the same would make it so. He moved in the space with damp footsteps and tiredness. Frowned when he didn't find his bag anywhere. The simple thought made the scientist's eyes grow moist, tears threatening to spill over a stupid, missing bag. His chin tremble as he sank into the too large couch, running his fingers through the messy curls and raking against the surface of his follicles. He sobbed silently as he felt himself existing too loudly.

Bruce sobbed longer than intended. Long enough to grow cold and sticky. Long enough to fall exhausted against the couch. Long enough for someone to still and watch him ebb away before they stepped into the shared space. A blanket was thrown against the scientist's body, pleasantly cold fingers running through his hair to as he stirred. "Shh, it's okay, you're okay." A voice had lowly muttered, soothing the scientist who allowed himself to drift back to sleep.

When Bruce woke up, he found Natasha sitting on the coffee table in front of him, a cup of tea in her hand and a kind look on her features. He rubbed his eyes and she handed up the steaming mug. Natasha was used to post-Hulk Bruce, knew how to deal with confused Bruce. The scientist took it, holding out a bare arm and Natasha encouragingly nodded. "Tony's prohibited the access to the shared quarters until you woke up."

"What time is it?" Bruce asked, instead of wondering how she'd managed to get in the shared quarters if those were prohibited. He wouldn't get a satisfactory answer anyway. Not from Natasha.

"It's a little past 4 p.m." She replied. "You've slept for a while."

Bruce sighed before taking a careful sip of the beverage. "Do you know where my duffle bag is?" He asked, after swallowing a too hot gulp with no issue despite the acute sensoriel perception.

"Tony sent it all to laundry." She replied.

Bruce threw his head back in a groan. "I need to go to a thrift store."

She furrowed her brows. "Can't you just wear clean clothes? He said your drawers were filled with them."

"There's a difference between clean and new." Bruce simply replied before downing his cup like a frat boy dared to finish a beer. He stood up, unbothered and marched back to the elevator. "Thank you." He said, watching the door close in front of him, so that neither he nor Natasha would have to deal with the aftermath of those two words. She smiled, grateful as she stood alone, that was her 'you're welcome'.


End file.
